


Musical Chairs: Voltron Edition

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, Lion Swap, and then so did keith, bc they all deserve some closure, but allura wormed her way in, chapters are not meant to be in a certain order, different bayards!!, lance is just so easy to hurt sorry guys, oneshots, originally this was just a lance and red fic, so i just turned it into a lion swap fic :), the lions didn't like it either, this is just a fic for my headcanons on what happened during the lion swap time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: *SPOILERS (duh)*///it's for the sake of the universe.that doesn't mean they, lions and paladins, have to like it.///a collection of oneshots dedicated to the lion swap in season three. be ready for some angst and hurt/comfort.





	1. missing you / red & blue & black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> red simmers with fury.  
> blue misses her paladin already.  
> black refuses to let Voltron down.

In her astral plane, a glorious land of volcanoes, lava and fire, Red simmers in rage. Her element responds to her anger, the flames flickering extra bright and high during this extended stay in her personal plane, the volcanoes roaring in harmony with her stormy heart. Lava pools underneath her paws reassuringly, it's comforting warmth calming her down ever so slightly, but her burning fury swiftly returns whenever she gets a glimpse of Keith, her beloved paladin, training relentlessly in the training room.

No. Not her paladin, not anymore. Sadness and indignant anger grips her heart, and suddenly she is glad that she confined herself to her astral plane as soon as she'd stormed out of their Pride meeting. There is no one here to hear her scream.

With a vicious snarl, she banishes the thoughts of that torturous meeting. She tries to think of Keith and his burning bonfire of anger, of righteous fury and instinct _(so perfect for her, her ideal paladin)_ , but those thoughts bring not the usual pride and loving warmth. Instead, they bring sorrow, of regret and this awful feeling of loss. Not the same feeling as when she lost Alfor (she cuts those thoughts off as soon as they resurface from their locked cabinet deep inside her ancient, scarred mind, because she does not need more sadness), but devastatingly close. She is not ready to lose another paladin.

Red is to take Blue's paladin. It is the closest fit, and although she still vehemently hates the notion of a paladin swap she can grudgingly allow herself to admit that if she were to take another paladin, the blue paladin would handle her the best. But she doesn't want a close-enough bond, doesn't want a paladin who reflects light like the surface of clear, flowing water, and judging by the unbearable sadness coursing through her bond with her sister, Blue didn't want to give her paladin up. She wants a paladin that is a living embodiment of fire, who wields anger like a weapon, hot-tempered and rash and so clearly _hers._

(she wants Keith)

She is glad that she confined herself to her astral plane. There is no one here to hear her scream.

///

Blue does not retreat into her astral plane, though she knows that Red has; her sister's fire burns especially bright tonight. Instead, her metal body stays in her hangar, shining blue forcefield up, while her lioness spirit leans against the shimmering colour and tries not to cry.

She understands. It's for the greater good, and she knows that. They are the defenders of the universe, and they carry that title with pride. That doesn't mean she doesn't get tired of the battles, the war, the bloodshed, the violence. Blue had always been the most emotional lion, and the one who showed her emotions the most; Red pushed her anger to the front and furiously quenched the weak emotions in her astral plane, Green was purely logical and managed her feelings as such, Yellow put all her effort into keeping the pride standing strong and Black knew better than to let her emotions affect her cool head and clever decisions. Blue had no emotional crutch, nothing to pour her energy into. 

Her paladin, surprisingly enough, is quite different. Multi-faceted. There are so many different sides to her beloved Lance, and Blue loves discovering each and every one of them. Their bond is (was) the strongest out of all the lion-paladin bonds, a fact that Blue takes (took) great pride in, and it is (was) all because of their impeccable communication and closeness. Lance had been unafraid to bare himself out to her, and in turn she had comforted him with images of glistening seas and gently lapping waves, the sounds of seagulls and tides and that peculiar but beautiful noise he claimed could hear if you pressed your ear against the open end of a seashell. The sound of the ocean in it's truest form, he would say to her as she pressed warmth and those lovely images into his tired, stressed mind. 

She understands that she has a duty to uphold, but a small, selfish part of her just wants to keep Lance and his quiet, beautiful bravery to herself. She does not want the princess, qualified as she may be, does not want to take a new paladin at all. Lance was meant to be hers until death forced them apart. They were never meant to separate sooner than that.

Blue loves Lance. So why must she give him up?

///

Black is the decisive, cool-headed leader of Voltron. That is an undisputed fact. The Black Paladin is the commanding, level-headed leader of the Voltron Paladins. That is an undisputed fact.

Shiro commanded respect as soon as he walked into a room. His paladins looked up to him and often went to him for advice and careful guidance, and although he did have a slight bias for Keith and Pidge he was still able to make good decisions in the heat of battle, taking in every factor and everyone's strengths.

Keith did not command respect as soon as he entered a room. The blue paladin had made it clear that he did not respect him at all, while the yellow and green paladins were often absorbed in projects that they did not notice his arrival, and her own beloved paladin was often engrossed in a strategical planning conversation with the princess and her adviser. The paladins did not look up to him (and why should they? He was on the same level as the yellow, blue and green, and in fact below the black. There was no reason for them looking up to him at all) and never went to him for advice and careful guidance - Keith, after all, was only a few months older than Lance and Hunk, while Pidge, though younger by quite a lot, was intelligent beyond his years, and Shiro was much older and much more knowledgeable than him. He was not able to make good decisions in the heat of battle - Red's paladins were instinctual and hot-headed, and Keith was no exception - and never took in every factor and everyone's strengths, often rushing in with no prior warning and no extra backup or support. 

In any normal circumstance, Black would never allow a person like Keith to even enter her cockpit. But this was not any normal circumstance. Shiro had vanished without a trace, beyond even the reach of their now strained bond, and to form Voltron once more she would have to allow another to pilot her.

Allura, the Altean princess, was qualified and a good, respected leader, but Black feared that if she were to take on the position as Head of Voltron, the shaky ground she walked on would collapse. She was much too stressed to pilot her. And so Black turned her away.

Hunk, the friendly chef and yellow paladin, was warm and kind and caring, but awfully prone to fearful outbursts which clouded his mind. She sensed he would also prefer Yellow's strong, staunch safety over her own pressuring position, and he was a well-performing leg in both Voltron and everyday life anyway. He was not a good fit to be her paladin. And so Black turned him away.

Pidge, the technical genius and green paladin, was much too young for the position of the Black Paladin, and much too dedicated to her quest to find her family. While certainly logical and intelligent, she would not fare well in the Head of Voltron. She was too young and stressed to pilot her. And so Black turned her away.

Coran, the goofy space uncle and royal adviser, was much better inside the castle to be piloting her, despite his years of experience back on Altea. His historical expertise and skillful controlling of the castle's machinery was too precious to waste. He was too valuable to be her paladin. And so Black turned him away.

Lance, the mood lifter and blue paladin, was admittedly the second-most qualified to pilot her - he was able to make decisions and keep a relatively level head during pressuring situations, sometimes even faring better because of them. But his insecurities and homesickness ran rampant in his mind, and like Allura, Black feared that if he were to pilot her, his shaky mental state would eventually shatter. He would be much better off inside Red, where his calm temper would let him effectively utilize her excellent weaponry and firepower. He was just too mentally fragile to pilot her. And so Black (reluctantly) turned him away.

And so only Keith remained viable to become the temporary Black Paladin. Black knew that, with some pushing from her, he could become a decent leader and Head of Voltron. She knew that by letting Keith pilot her she would be upholding her paladin's deliriously spoken wishes. She knew that this was for the good of the universe.

So Black would let Keith in.  
That didn't mean she had to like it.


	2. it's not the same / keith & lance & allura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> black is not warm.  
> red is not cold.  
> blue is too cold.
> 
> everything was falling apart.
> 
> \- this is firmly an au btw, in this universe they switched lions before the battle :)  
> \- also in this au their bayards all changed :)))

Keith is used to Red's warmth, her fierce burning desire to _destroy_ , her smooth movements that respond to his every instinctual whim. They are creatures of fire, of rage and anger and righteous fury. Black is not warm. Black is cool, like the chilly morning breeze, the cold night air. Her wrapping Keith up in her quintessence was like dropping a load on his fragile shoulders and then pushing him right into a swirling, raging tornado. Wind and debris slapping against his skin, pressure building in his lungs and throat. A part of him thinks that Shiro did not feel like this when Black bonded with him; Shiro had always been one with the air and wind, one with the dark emptiness of the cosmos. While Keith had been hailed as a flying prodigy by the Garrison, he was someone born of impulse and hasty action, which mixed surprisingly well with his piloting of the simulation and later on the Red Lion. Red, who had always understood his rash, instinctual urges, who had moved forward with him for better or for worse. Black was different: her commanding, decisive quintessence forced him to rethink every decision, to take in everything around him. Keith did not like being this restricted - this was why he'd always preferred working alone. There was nothing to hold him back.

The black bayard turned into a bladed chain whip in his shaky hands. Control at all costs, Coran, their resident bayard expert, said. A powerful weapon only meant to be held by the steady, commanding hands of a warrior. The weapon felt unbearably heavy in his hands, both literally and mentally. This was nothing like his faithful red sword, swift and smooth, striking hard and fast. His new whip required delicate care and precision, and was not a weapon to be used at every whim. He found this out the hard way the first time he tried to train with his temporary bayard: he'd foolishly tried to immediately settle back into his trusted rhythm with his sword, only to hit _himself_ with his whip, earning him a one-way trip to the healing pods and a lecture from Allura and Coran on the accuracy needed to control the whip.

_Everything,_ he thought angrily as he gracelessly fell out of the healing pod, _was falling apart._

///

Lance is used to Blue's cold, her cool lapping waters, her lovingly chilly embrace, her melodious calming voice in his head. They are creatures of water, of flexibility and widespread enthusiasm and communication. Red is not cold. Red is the very embodiment of warmth, of brightly burning flames, searing heat that slams into him out of nowhere, engulfing him in the lion's unbearably hot quintessence. Blue was calm and patient; she always waited for him when he needed time to adjust at the very beginning of their journey, carefully nudging him in the right direction when he was going off the wrong way. Red was nothing like that; she had a burning desire for action, for destruction and rebirth, and that was what fire was at it's very core. It destroyed and rebuilt. Water only did that when it needed to, sweeping away debris and leaving a clean slate for something new to be created. Water was flexible and soothing and cold. _Blue_ was flexible and soothing and cold. Red was anything but.

The red bayard turned into throwing knives in his unsteady hands. A group of five, to be precise. Coran, who turned out to be an expert on bayard forms and their obscure meanings, claimed that his new (temporary) bayard form often historically represented a flashy outer persona with many hidden characteristics. His new bayard reportedly required surprising precision and was excellent for both long range, naturally, and short range attacks when need be. The weapon felt unbearably foreign in his hands, so different from his trusty energy gun, which his hands had molded to over time. Lance was not used to having to put real strength and power behind his shots, as the gun had always had the same level of damage. These throwing knives required him to put effort behind his throws, as well as the usual accuracy and precision, otherwise the blade would barely sink into the targets in the training room. And while his first training session with his new bayard hadn't gone as badly as Keith's had, as the red (black) paladin's stay in the pods had indicated, Lance still left with the same feeling of loss and inadequacy. 

_Everything,_ he thought morosely as he clipped his deactivated bayard to his armor's hip belt, _was falling apart._

 

///

Allura is used to the castle's fluidity, it's controls that easily submitted to her motions and orders. She is not used to controlling an incredibly sentient robotic lion that was actually capable of it's own thoughts and urges. Blue is too controlling for her, and much, _much_ too cold. Altea had always been a relatively hot planet, due to it's close proximity to the center sun - even it's winters were simply cool at worst. The blue lion's icy embrace chills her to her very core as she is forced to sink under her frigid ocean of cold. The fact that Blue had her own mind meant that she and Allura often butted heads over what their next action was. Allura was a militant commander at heart, despite her relatively young age, and had an unfortunate habit of pushing forward with every decision she made. Blue could sense what her **temporary** pilot could not and always made Allura reconsider, a fact that immensely annoyed her. The castle had always bent to her every whim. Blue refused to.

The blue bayard turned into a bow in her trembling hands, alongside a quiver of arrows to be slung over her shoulder. Coran, who had lived alongside the paladins of old and therefore knew a great deal about bayards, told her that a bow represented a composed personality who could still be deadly from afar, a clearly proud, paternal tone in his voice. Bows required careful precision and deadly accuracy. Her particular kind came with energy arrows that could easily slice through alien flesh, but this required even more talent and wariness from her, as a stray shot could hit a teammate or ally in the heat of battle - she learnt this the hard way while they were liberating a Galra-occupied planet, and although no one had noticed, too caught up in the fight, Allura knew that the simple betrayal on the alien's face would haunt her nightmares forever. After that incident, she found herself training fiercely in order to prevent another occurrence, but switching from her lovely Altean staff to the energy bow was difficult, and Allura often left the training room with a haunting feeling of failure.

_Everything,_ she thought sadly as she slumped into her bed after another shaky training session, _was falling apart._


	3. how did you do it? / allura & lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allura needs advice.  
> lance is more than happy to help.  
> blue is just glad to have her true paladin back in her cockpit once more.
> 
> \- blue paladin bonding time yay  
> \- also i'm really bad at keeping my tense consistent so let me know if i make any mistakes please, thank you :)

It had been around a spicolian movement since the fated lion swap. Thankfully, there hadn't been any major battles since then, because Allura and Blue could hardly get along at all, let alone connect enough to be able to form Voltron. And, as much as the Altean princess tried to deny it, part of the fault lay with her as well as the Blue Lion. Commanding was in her nature, and she was used to being in full control: this frequently put her at odds with the Blue Lion, a vessel with her own thoughts and instincts that often clashed with Allura's own. 

Allura was a prideful woman, but even she knew when she needed help to further advance her fragile, shaky bond with the Blue Lion. In a future battle which required the hastily assembled paladins to form Voltron, she could not afford to let the team down. That was how she came to find herself standing outside of the former blue paladins room, hand resting just above the cool metal surface of the door, poised to knock. 

Lance, she reflected, had probably matured the most out of all of the castle's inhabitants. Maybe it was Shiro's disappearance, maybe it was the breaking of his bond with Blue, maybe it was being forced to pilot Red, who she knew was far different to Blue, but nevertheless the boy had grown up a great deal. Gone were his casual flirtatious advances towards Allura, who would never in a thousand decaphebes admit to the fact that she actually missed the casual bantering between the two. Gone were his joking attitude, his playful personality. The militant commander within her was greatly reassured by the fact that one of her soldiers had finally discarded his humorous front. The empathetic little girl's heart broke for the boy who had been forced to grow up too fast.

They had all been forced to grow up too fast though. Allura had been born to become Altea's next Queen, a diplomat, spreading peace throughout the universe. Being observant was in her blood. She noticed all the little details that others often couldn't spot. 

How Hunk no longer chattered with Coran about all the different types of food that existed on Earth, instead resigning himself to the 10,000 decaphebe old food that resided within the Castle and whatever mixed ingredients they could pick up along the way. Hunk was incredibly flexible and excellent at adapting to whatever alien substance they found that quintent or spicolian movement, but she shouldn't have to be. There were times, however, when an ingredient they picked up matched the taste of something on Earth (they always kept a steady supply of rwenberzes on the castle, as the fairly common fruit apparently tasted similar to an Earth 'strawberry'), and Allura couldn't contain a smile at how all five (now four) paladins' faces would light up as they tasted the food.

How Pidge closeted herself for hours on end in her room, furiously typing away on her Earth 'laptop' device, constantly engrossed in her desperate search for her long lost family. How the young girl often forgot what the paladins called 'human necessities', too absorbed in her decoding, or whatever technologically advanced action she was carrying out that quintent. Allura sympathized with her, though. If she still had the chance to find her father, she would be acting exactly like Pidge, throwing herself into the search. The other paladins apparently shared the same sentiments, as they only attempted to drag Pidge out of her 'sacred sanctuary' whenever the small girl decided to forego important activities, like bonding exercises, training, eating and, most commonly, sleeping.

How Keith threw himself into his training, rapidly ascending in the levels as he trained and trained and trained. Allura swore she had never met anyone as dedicated to honing his skills as a warrior than their Red Paladin. Sometimes, though, it went too far, resulting in the paladins dragging Keith away and back to his room and Allura locking the training room for a quintent or two, or until Keith got enough rest to keep his body functioning well. A flicker of guilt passed through her body as she remembered her less-than-amiable reaction to the revelation that Keith was half-Galra: her brain had simply reacted immediately with thoughts of _he's the enemy_ and _he destroyed your planet_. She realized, eventually, that she was wrong: the Galra who had sided with Zarkon were the enemy, the Galra who had sided with Zarkon destroyed her planet. She could not hold Keith, or the Blade of Marmora, accountable for their race's actions.

(she refused to think of how Shiro always helped her make battle decisions, always kept the paladins in line, always let her know when they were having a rough day)

How Lance was so dreadfully homesick that he spent the majority of his nights sitting in the observatory, looking at the stars, or watching Earth slowly spin on it's axis on the castle's handy cosmic map. Allura had seen him one night on the security cameras and had originally intended to go lecture him on the benefits of getting enough sleep, but something had stopped her, and she was glad it had. It had been difficult to see past Lance's joking, flirty exterior, but once she had she could notice everything that his mask had blinded her to. The way he sat for vargas on end, staring at the small, bright model of his planet, just like how she would pull up pictures of Altea before the war and think of what could have been. The way he most definitely had the strongest bond with his lions out of the five paladins, if the way he would regularly head to the lion's hangars and speak with his lion in her cockpit was anything to go by. There was so much more to Lance McClain than what you see when you first meet him.

Snapping out of her brooding thoughts, she quietly rapped her knuckles on the metal door and prayed Lance was inside. To her immense luck, he was.

"Hey, Allura," he smiled wearily, tired blue eyes staring into her own, dark circles framing them. Refusing to hesitate and lose her drive, Allura opened her mouth and prepared to say the lines she had carefully planned out in the safety of her bedroom...

"Ineedyourhelpwiththebluelionpleasehelpme."

"Um, sorry, what?" Lance blinked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as Allura flushed and turned away, mentally swearing in her head. _Quiznak, Allura, you're a **princess of Altea** , get it together!_, she scolded herself.

"Uh, what I meant was, I'm having, um, a bit of trouble with the Blue Lion and would really like your help? Please?" she added as she quickly spat out the words she needed to say, only at a slower pace than before. Lance's eyes brightened as he registered her plea, and before she knew it she was being dragged by the hand towards the lion hangars, Lance's yells of 'hell yeah I will, princess!' echoing in the halls. They passed a bewildered Hunk in the kitchens testing out a newly acquired herb, a confused Pidge who was just exiting her room for a well needed food break and a tired and sweaty Keith who had clearly just left the training room before arriving at their destination: the Blue Lion, who immediately dropped her forcefield, lowered her head, opened her mouth and purred audibly at the sight of them.

"Hey, Blue!" Lance exclaimed cheerfully as he let go of Allura's hand and rushed up the ramp to enter the lion's cockpit, Allura hurrying along behind him. He made as if to impulsively sit down in the pilot's chair, but reconsidered his actions and ended up doing this bizarre full-body spasm as he shot up, straightened his back and settled for resting his hands against the back of the seat. Allura, on the other hand, sat down in the pilot's chair and hesitantly brushed her fingers against the controls that were still slightly strange in her hands.

"So, what's been the main issue for you bonding with Blue?" Lance asked as Allura frowned and bit her lip in thought. 

"Well," the princess began hesitantly, reflecting on the few battles they had been in over the past spicolian movement. "I think the main problem is that I'm, well, used to the castle just doing what I want, while Blue has her own thoughts -"

"And you guys start arguing about what to do, right?" Lance cut her off, a knowing gleam in his blue eyes. Allura blinked and nodded. 

"How did you know? Did you have the same issue?" she asked curiously. He shook his head.

"Nah, I'd never piloted a sentient vessel before so it was easy for me to let Blue make the harder decisions by herself. But I can see why you'd have such a problem, since you went from the castle to a Lion. It's been a difficult jump, I would imagine," he said, giving her a sympathetic gaze. She nodded.

"So, should I let her take full control?" Allura wondered as she glanced briefly at the bright blue control panel. It wouldn't be easy, but she could probably accomplish it with time.

"No," Lance replied, to her surprise. "Not all the time, at least. For the 'easier' decisions, compromise or follow your instincts - Blue's flexible like that, and so are you, I think. But definitely let her take make the harder ones, since, well, a robotic lion over 10,000 years old probably has a lot more experience in war than you do," he laughed, flashing Allura a cheerful grin. Allura nodded as she turned his words over in her head. It _did_ make a lot of sense: Blue was a seasoned veteran when it came to battles against the Galra, so she probably did know a lot more about situations than Allura. And as long as they came to a compromise quickly, it would be okay.

"Alright, thanks Lance," she smiled at him. 

The old Lance would've tossed in a flirty pick-up line to ease the tension, but the new Lance just smiled at her.

"No problem, princess," he grinned as he swiftly exited the cockpit, leaving Allura and Blue to bond together in peace and solitude.

He really had grown up.

In her head, Blue purred in agreement, her cold suddenly becoming just a little bit more bearable.


End file.
